[Fic] The Slightly Chipped Full Moon
Title: The Slightly Chipped Full Moon
Chapter: One-shot
Author: pokky4ever
Genre: Romance, supernatural, angst, tragedy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rape-mindbreak, voyeurism, read at own risk.
Pairing: AoixUruha, OCxUruha
Disclaimer: Aoi and Uruha belong to themselves. Although I bask myself in fantasies which includes the both of them and said fantasies tend to end up in fan-fiction, I only own the plot.
Synopsis: "I call out his name once, twice... He does not look at me. He then stares at the moon, visible in all her glory from where he lays."
The Slightly Chipped Full Moon
He runs pale and smooth fingers through disheveled long golden hair. I watch as his eyes flutter open in the dim chamber, lit by a single candle on a small bed table just across from his reach. The dim moonlight, too far off in the sky, does not properly illuminate his figure. He turns to his side, eyes directly facing the open large window. His hazel eyes reflect a perfect amber in the dark room, as his face glistens of a sickly white. His eyelids flutter shut and he brings a finger on his trembling lips and let a small, nearly inauble groan.
The white covers seem so pale in comparison to his skin, so much so that he seems like a living porcelain doll, or simply, a living corpse. He tries to find comfort on the pillow his head is laying upon, arms around himself, but I know better than this. He does not move at all, pretending to go back to a dreamless sleep. The bed covers barely shield his bare shoulders and neck from the frisky winter night, the open window adding up to the cold in the big chamber. He barely shivers at all, not even bothered by the temperature. He only lays there, unmoving. He would not be able to fall into peaceful slumber soon and he knows. He knows what there is to come, and yet, he vainly lingers on hope.
As if he sees I am here observing, his eyelids slowly open, eyes searching to adjust to the dark. He shows no sign of possible feeling, stone cold and eyes scarcely containing life. His lips, full, swollen and pink with innocence suddenly quiver. He brings his knees up to his chest, as if searching for unrequited warmth. The covers slide along his slender hips, revealing tainted white. Purple bruises decorate his arms and hips so much that he seems to be a living artwork. Magnificently conceived, unhealthy strecthing blues, purples and reds run along that perfect skin.
In his eyes, there are unheard prayers. In his grip, there is so small a desire unnoticed by everyone but me. I make my way through the open window, walking small steps to where he lays. He is unaffected, does not move when I try to press my finger against his pale cheek, tracing in a comforting manner. Sadness overuns me, or is it? I do not know. He closes his eyelids, grip loosening around his knees to come brushing at the place where my fingers have been a few seconds before. I try to brush his sinful lips but dare not to move when he looks so broken. His eyelids open once again, only to stare past me.
I call out his name once, twice... He does not look at me.
He then stares at the moon, visible in all her glory from where he lays. Her light then penetrates the dim chamber, caressing softly then disappearing from sight by the overwhelming grey clouds. I try and call out his name again, but to avail, he does not hear my whispers. He has unwavering eyes, glaring at the moon, trying to bring her warmth back and tear the clouds away.
[We cannot desire, we can only take]
He unknowingly begs her to shine again, as he did so many nights before this one. Usually, it only ended up with no more than a moonless night and yet he still begged, clinging desperately to change. I look at him. If it was not for his blinking eyelids, I would have long thought he was nothing more than a wrecked puppet.
"Why can't you let this go? Leave everything, you're only hurting." I whisper close to his ears ever so calmly. He blinks once, letting a sigh escape from his quivering lips.
"It's hard for me. Please, let everything go." He frowns and quickly shut his left ear with his hands, cutting off the words I need to whisper to him. He obtructs the reality around him by fervently closing both eyes and ears. He stays like this for an undetermined time, so long that I can almost feel my legs going numb. I try to touch him again, his bruised arm this time, as if to tell him it's okay to return to this reality, that he needs to return to this reality.
Tiredly, he lets the hand on his left ear fall ungracefully onto the soft, cushioned bed. He blinks his eyelids open, and this time, he opts to stare at the almost sallow candle on top of the nightstand. He seems absorded by its amber flickering light.
"I want to do this for your good, but I'm scared." I whisper close to his ears again, but he makes no sign of possible resistance this time. I try to brush his face with the back of my hand and imagine how soft it would have been, were it if I was real. "I don't want to force you. But please, stop clinging to life, just let everything go, I beg of you." It feels as if those words are pleas, not the commands I was given.
Perhaps my words bring back the pain from his freshly made wounds and he starts to rub them with his hands, as if it is an effective balm. I crouch to have our faces just mere inches from each other. I try and kiss his unresponsive lips then stare into his menacingly indifferent eyes.
"They killed everyone already." His eyes water. "You don't have to do this anymore."
His eyes unfocused, wavering, they water but no tears spill. I know he is not that weak, he rarely cries even when he suffers the most. I smile at him, to show him I greatly appreciate his determination. But it's time to let reality sink in, he needs to know.
[Save me and let me smile]
"Are you willing to come now, Uruha?" I ask, trying to brush his beautiful hair and he looks up, as if he can see me. It's not to my surprise that he doesn't give me a decent reply. He's just a souless body who's only function is to display an unparalleled beauty, for only the pleasure of a vile man.
The moonlight softens the atmosphere in this suffocatingly cold chamber, sky becoming similar to a refined pallid royal blue. The bed covers shifts from the place next to him and he does not show any reaction, while the body next to his suddenly stirs and grunts, breaking the placid silence if not for my soliloquies. A rough and big hand pulls Uruha's hips into an embrace. It leaves a trace from his hip up to his delicate neck. I step away from the bed, standing up straightly by the open large window, observing every move the vile man makes. From kissing the perfect skin of Uruha's hipbone with his ignominious mouth, to touching Uruha's flat stomach with his repulsive hands, I watch it all.
He roughly turns Uruha onto his stomach, gripping him fiercely by the wrist. The man smiles a sadistic smile, blood already circulating profusedly into his manhood. He bends his head down to try and leave a bite mark on Uruha's shoulder blade, sinking his fingers into his hips at the same time. Uruha lets out a strangled cry, teeth biting the pillow beneath. The man lets his free hand wander onto Uruha's back, clawing at any parcel of skin he was able to rub.
"Scream!" He demands and Uruha complies, receiving a hard hit on his sensitive thighs. Satisfied, he rubs his shaft with one hand and forces a finger in Uruha. His head shoots up and he turns it around, staring at the vile man. With unbelief? With defiance? With fear, repulsiveness? I can't tell. I cannot see his face from where I stand. Uruha goes back to muffle his noises into the pillow when the man starts to roughly thrust his finger in and out. The digits on his shaft are now tangled in the beautiful hair, pulling uncarefully hard and drawing out sweet moans from Uruha. The man pulls his finger out, forcing Uruha's hips higher in the air.
He grins a distasteful grin. My blood would have bowled if not for the wonderful sight that was Uruha. Already breathless, trying to refrain from letting out pleasurable sounds. His knuckles turn white when the man positions his hard and long manshaft onto his delicious hole. The man slowly pushes in, as if he wants to enjoy the moment like he has all the time in the world. Inch by inch, he thrusts, watching delightfuly as Uruha's bare back arches in discomfort, head forced up because of his ungraceful fingers. The man's erected member is now fully inside and Uruha's lips tremble, his knees barely able to keep his bottom up in the air, all for this man's pleasure. His whole body tenses up when the man tries to dig deeper, to be completely engulfed by Uruha's probably insupportable wonderful heat.
I watch silently, perhaps longingly. I can't know.
"How do you feel, uhm? Good?" The man asks, yanking Uruha's hair up so abruptly that his back was now pressing up the man's stomach, obscene mouth next to his delicate ear. "You like my big cock in there? Feels good?" He continues his series of boostful for the pride questions, licking and nibbling on Uruha's earlobe. His right hand untangles from Uruha's hair only to travel down to his chest, using his rough, big fingers to stimulate Uruha's pink nipples. Whereas his left one rests on a thin and slender waist, to keep his owned price in place.
Uruha moans, filling the dim lit chamber with the sound of his ravishing voice. He directs one hand on his own erected manhood, clasping it and starts to move up and down. The other hand finds itself clutching on the man's muscled and disgusting forearm.
The man starts a slow back-and-forth rhythm, in and out.
"Uhm? Tell me." He orders and Uruha blushes, eyelids half closed and seemingly lost in his own pleasure. The man makes a sudden strong hip movement and Uruha lets out a soft shout, eyes fluttering open.
"Ahn... I-ah... I..." He doesn't get to finish as the man does it again, causing Uruha's body to tremble all over. The man grins like a puppeteer would after a perfect puppet show. He doesn't let the time for Uruha to properly respond and decides to accelerate the pace to an almost savage one. He stops after only a few seconds and lets go of Uruha, who gracefully fall on the bed. The man dives in, forcing Uruha to lay on his back and to spread his creamy thighs before he violently thrusts back in, resuming his savage pace and grunting at the satisfaction he must have felt from owning such a beauty.
And he just takes it all, enjoying every seconds of it. He is so different from the one only a few minutes ago, emotionless, unmoving. He seems alive now, as if his only use was to pleasure this despicable creature of a man. I turn my head to the open window, my ears away from his delectable voice, my eyes away from his gorgeous figure. The moon is still up and would be there for another couple of hours. I do not wish to stay a minute longer so I walk through the window and into the winter night, thoughts always deriving back to the actions that were taking place in the dim-lit chamber.
*
When I come back before dawn, the vile man is not in the spacious chamber. Uruha is laying on the bed, his face facing the open window and eyes rather unfocused, but still blinking. His long limbs are exposed, a white opaque liquid still lingering from the inside of his thighs. I walk to where he's resting silently. I crouch and he sees me. For this I offer him a smile and he does not talk. I cup his cheeks in my hand, wanting to sigh at how his skin is purely soft. I notice red, long marks on his neck and new purple-ish bruises on both his wrists.
"I came to fetch you." I explain and he nods, eyes casting downwards. I let my hands linger on his body, creating a comforting and soothing touch. I graze on his countless wounds, observe the constant movement of his chest, little as they are. I take his hand in my left one, grasping it with all the care in the world, not wanting to break such a valuable person. He clamps my hand back and I smile for him.
"Thank you." He whispers, a humble smile visible on his peaceful face. His hazel eyes seem alive, tainted with perhaps contentment. For a moment, I hesitate. Maybe it is fear, I won't know. Maybe it is disappointement, I can't confirm. We can't desire, so I do not question it. I lean over and kiss both his eyes closed. I kiss his tender lips for the first time and close my own eyes, lingering, prolonging the act. I cup his cheek once again, perhaps afraid? I don't know. I can't desire but I don't want to let go.
I hear his dropping heartbeats. I can hear his breath, an acute nothingness.
I let him go.
I open my eyes to watch him sleep a dreamless eternity.
[We cannot desire for we cannot fear;
We can only take life away
From everyone they thought as dear]
End.
~*~*~*~
Author's note: I was listening to this song(where the title comes from!) while writing this. I have to say, it's been so long I haven't written any tragedy! It kind of feels good, somewhat! And for further comprehension, it's not explicitly written but Aoi is a death god, a demon if you can say so. I'm sorry for my poor attempt at writing a smut. I'll get the hang of it eventually! As for the man... you can just picture anyone you have in mind, really. Please, leave a comment. It's really supportive and motivating! Thanks for reading! I hope you appreciated.
Chapter: One-shot
Author: pokky4ever
Genre: Romance, supernatural, angst, tragedy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rape-mindbreak, voyeurism, read at own risk.
Pairing: AoixUruha, OCxUruha
Disclaimer: Aoi and Uruha belong to themselves. Although I bask myself in fantasies which includes the both of them and said fantasies tend to end up in fan-fiction, I only own the plot.
Synopsis: "I call out his name once, twice... He does not look at me. He then stares at the moon, visible in all her glory from where he lays."
The Slightly Chipped Full Moon
He runs pale and smooth fingers through disheveled long golden hair. I watch as his eyes flutter open in the dim chamber, lit by a single candle on a small bed table just across from his reach. The dim moonlight, too far off in the sky, does not properly illuminate his figure. He turns to his side, eyes directly facing the open large window. His hazel eyes reflect a perfect amber in the dark room, as his face glistens of a sickly white. His eyelids flutter shut and he brings a finger on his trembling lips and let a small, nearly inauble groan.
The white covers seem so pale in comparison to his skin, so much so that he seems like a living porcelain doll, or simply, a living corpse. He tries to find comfort on the pillow his head is laying upon, arms around himself, but I know better than this. He does not move at all, pretending to go back to a dreamless sleep. The bed covers barely shield his bare shoulders and neck from the frisky winter night, the open window adding up to the cold in the big chamber. He barely shivers at all, not even bothered by the temperature. He only lays there, unmoving. He would not be able to fall into peaceful slumber soon and he knows. He knows what there is to come, and yet, he vainly lingers on hope.
As if he sees I am here observing, his eyelids slowly open, eyes searching to adjust to the dark. He shows no sign of possible feeling, stone cold and eyes scarcely containing life. His lips, full, swollen and pink with innocence suddenly quiver. He brings his knees up to his chest, as if searching for unrequited warmth. The covers slide along his slender hips, revealing tainted white. Purple bruises decorate his arms and hips so much that he seems to be a living artwork. Magnificently conceived, unhealthy strecthing blues, purples and reds run along that perfect skin.
In his eyes, there are unheard prayers. In his grip, there is so small a desire unnoticed by everyone but me. I make my way through the open window, walking small steps to where he lays. He is unaffected, does not move when I try to press my finger against his pale cheek, tracing in a comforting manner. Sadness overuns me, or is it? I do not know. He closes his eyelids, grip loosening around his knees to come brushing at the place where my fingers have been a few seconds before. I try to brush his sinful lips but dare not to move when he looks so broken. His eyelids open once again, only to stare past me.
I call out his name once, twice... He does not look at me.
He then stares at the moon, visible in all her glory from where he lays. Her light then penetrates the dim chamber, caressing softly then disappearing from sight by the overwhelming grey clouds. I try and call out his name again, but to avail, he does not hear my whispers. He has unwavering eyes, glaring at the moon, trying to bring her warmth back and tear the clouds away.
[We cannot desire, we can only take]
He unknowingly begs her to shine again, as he did so many nights before this one. Usually, it only ended up with no more than a moonless night and yet he still begged, clinging desperately to change. I look at him. If it was not for his blinking eyelids, I would have long thought he was nothing more than a wrecked puppet.
"Why can't you let this go? Leave everything, you're only hurting." I whisper close to his ears ever so calmly. He blinks once, letting a sigh escape from his quivering lips.
"It's hard for me. Please, let everything go." He frowns and quickly shut his left ear with his hands, cutting off the words I need to whisper to him. He obtructs the reality around him by fervently closing both eyes and ears. He stays like this for an undetermined time, so long that I can almost feel my legs going numb. I try to touch him again, his bruised arm this time, as if to tell him it's okay to return to this reality, that he needs to return to this reality.
Tiredly, he lets the hand on his left ear fall ungracefully onto the soft, cushioned bed. He blinks his eyelids open, and this time, he opts to stare at the almost sallow candle on top of the nightstand. He seems absorded by its amber flickering light.
"I want to do this for your good, but I'm scared." I whisper close to his ears again, but he makes no sign of possible resistance this time. I try to brush his face with the back of my hand and imagine how soft it would have been, were it if I was real. "I don't want to force you. But please, stop clinging to life, just let everything go, I beg of you." It feels as if those words are pleas, not the commands I was given.
Perhaps my words bring back the pain from his freshly made wounds and he starts to rub them with his hands, as if it is an effective balm. I crouch to have our faces just mere inches from each other. I try and kiss his unresponsive lips then stare into his menacingly indifferent eyes.
"They killed everyone already." His eyes water. "You don't have to do this anymore."
His eyes unfocused, wavering, they water but no tears spill. I know he is not that weak, he rarely cries even when he suffers the most. I smile at him, to show him I greatly appreciate his determination. But it's time to let reality sink in, he needs to know.
[Save me and let me smile]
"Are you willing to come now, Uruha?" I ask, trying to brush his beautiful hair and he looks up, as if he can see me. It's not to my surprise that he doesn't give me a decent reply. He's just a souless body who's only function is to display an unparalleled beauty, for only the pleasure of a vile man.
The moonlight softens the atmosphere in this suffocatingly cold chamber, sky becoming similar to a refined pallid royal blue. The bed covers shifts from the place next to him and he does not show any reaction, while the body next to his suddenly stirs and grunts, breaking the placid silence if not for my soliloquies. A rough and big hand pulls Uruha's hips into an embrace. It leaves a trace from his hip up to his delicate neck. I step away from the bed, standing up straightly by the open large window, observing every move the vile man makes. From kissing the perfect skin of Uruha's hipbone with his ignominious mouth, to touching Uruha's flat stomach with his repulsive hands, I watch it all.
He roughly turns Uruha onto his stomach, gripping him fiercely by the wrist. The man smiles a sadistic smile, blood already circulating profusedly into his manhood. He bends his head down to try and leave a bite mark on Uruha's shoulder blade, sinking his fingers into his hips at the same time. Uruha lets out a strangled cry, teeth biting the pillow beneath. The man lets his free hand wander onto Uruha's back, clawing at any parcel of skin he was able to rub.
"Scream!" He demands and Uruha complies, receiving a hard hit on his sensitive thighs. Satisfied, he rubs his shaft with one hand and forces a finger in Uruha. His head shoots up and he turns it around, staring at the vile man. With unbelief? With defiance? With fear, repulsiveness? I can't tell. I cannot see his face from where I stand. Uruha goes back to muffle his noises into the pillow when the man starts to roughly thrust his finger in and out. The digits on his shaft are now tangled in the beautiful hair, pulling uncarefully hard and drawing out sweet moans from Uruha. The man pulls his finger out, forcing Uruha's hips higher in the air.
He grins a distasteful grin. My blood would have bowled if not for the wonderful sight that was Uruha. Already breathless, trying to refrain from letting out pleasurable sounds. His knuckles turn white when the man positions his hard and long manshaft onto his delicious hole. The man slowly pushes in, as if he wants to enjoy the moment like he has all the time in the world. Inch by inch, he thrusts, watching delightfuly as Uruha's bare back arches in discomfort, head forced up because of his ungraceful fingers. The man's erected member is now fully inside and Uruha's lips tremble, his knees barely able to keep his bottom up in the air, all for this man's pleasure. His whole body tenses up when the man tries to dig deeper, to be completely engulfed by Uruha's probably insupportable wonderful heat.
I watch silently, perhaps longingly. I can't know.
"How do you feel, uhm? Good?" The man asks, yanking Uruha's hair up so abruptly that his back was now pressing up the man's stomach, obscene mouth next to his delicate ear. "You like my big cock in there? Feels good?" He continues his series of boostful for the pride questions, licking and nibbling on Uruha's earlobe. His right hand untangles from Uruha's hair only to travel down to his chest, using his rough, big fingers to stimulate Uruha's pink nipples. Whereas his left one rests on a thin and slender waist, to keep his owned price in place.
Uruha moans, filling the dim lit chamber with the sound of his ravishing voice. He directs one hand on his own erected manhood, clasping it and starts to move up and down. The other hand finds itself clutching on the man's muscled and disgusting forearm.
The man starts a slow back-and-forth rhythm, in and out.
"Uhm? Tell me." He orders and Uruha blushes, eyelids half closed and seemingly lost in his own pleasure. The man makes a sudden strong hip movement and Uruha lets out a soft shout, eyes fluttering open.
"Ahn... I-ah... I..." He doesn't get to finish as the man does it again, causing Uruha's body to tremble all over. The man grins like a puppeteer would after a perfect puppet show. He doesn't let the time for Uruha to properly respond and decides to accelerate the pace to an almost savage one. He stops after only a few seconds and lets go of Uruha, who gracefully fall on the bed. The man dives in, forcing Uruha to lay on his back and to spread his creamy thighs before he violently thrusts back in, resuming his savage pace and grunting at the satisfaction he must have felt from owning such a beauty.
And he just takes it all, enjoying every seconds of it. He is so different from the one only a few minutes ago, emotionless, unmoving. He seems alive now, as if his only use was to pleasure this despicable creature of a man. I turn my head to the open window, my ears away from his delectable voice, my eyes away from his gorgeous figure. The moon is still up and would be there for another couple of hours. I do not wish to stay a minute longer so I walk through the window and into the winter night, thoughts always deriving back to the actions that were taking place in the dim-lit chamber.
*
When I come back before dawn, the vile man is not in the spacious chamber. Uruha is laying on the bed, his face facing the open window and eyes rather unfocused, but still blinking. His long limbs are exposed, a white opaque liquid still lingering from the inside of his thighs. I walk to where he's resting silently. I crouch and he sees me. For this I offer him a smile and he does not talk. I cup his cheeks in my hand, wanting to sigh at how his skin is purely soft. I notice red, long marks on his neck and new purple-ish bruises on both his wrists.
"I came to fetch you." I explain and he nods, eyes casting downwards. I let my hands linger on his body, creating a comforting and soothing touch. I graze on his countless wounds, observe the constant movement of his chest, little as they are. I take his hand in my left one, grasping it with all the care in the world, not wanting to break such a valuable person. He clamps my hand back and I smile for him.
"Thank you." He whispers, a humble smile visible on his peaceful face. His hazel eyes seem alive, tainted with perhaps contentment. For a moment, I hesitate. Maybe it is fear, I won't know. Maybe it is disappointement, I can't confirm. We can't desire, so I do not question it. I lean over and kiss both his eyes closed. I kiss his tender lips for the first time and close my own eyes, lingering, prolonging the act. I cup his cheek once again, perhaps afraid? I don't know. I can't desire but I don't want to let go.
I hear his dropping heartbeats. I can hear his breath, an acute nothingness.
I let him go.
I open my eyes to watch him sleep a dreamless eternity.
[We cannot desire for we cannot fear;
We can only take life away
From everyone they thought as dear]
End.
~*~*~*~
Author's note: I was listening to this song(where the title comes from!) while writing this. I have to say, it's been so long I haven't written any tragedy! It kind of feels good, somewhat! And for further comprehension, it's not explicitly written but Aoi is a death god, a demon if you can say so. I'm sorry for my poor attempt at writing a smut. I'll get the hang of it eventually! As for the man... you can just picture anyone you have in mind, really. Please, leave a comment. It's really supportive and motivating! Thanks for reading! I hope you appreciated.